


A Painting Worth a Thousand Words

by RoseAmaranth



Series: Song Fics [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anger and Grief, Angst, Banter, Character Death, Flashbacks, Fluff, Grieving, Hurt Stephen Strange, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Sorry, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Announcement, Original Minor Characters - Freeform, POV Stephen Strange, Reminiscing, Sad Stephen, Song fic, Sorcerer Supreme Stephen Strange, Supreme Family, Teen Morgan Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 12:36:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20227966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseAmaranth/pseuds/RoseAmaranth
Summary: Stephen is walking along the beach and comes across a man painting the sun setting into the ocean. When asked if he would like to have anything painted, Stephen finds he has just the perfect thing.”Put her there in the front yard swing. Cotton dress, make it early Spring. For a while, she'll be mine again....”- Paint Me a Birmingham by Tracy Lawrence





	A Painting Worth a Thousand Words

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to _'Paint Me a Birmingham'_ by Tracy Lawrence when I thought of this bittersweet fic. I hope you do listen to it, even if you aren't a fan of country music, because it's such a beautiful piece. <3
> 
> I do not own the Marvel characters depicted in this story. Obviously.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! :D

Stephen made his way down the beach, kicking the sand with his feet and sighing against the burning sun on his neck and the soothing sound of the ocean waves lapping at the shore. It was surprisingly vacant for a weekend in May, but Stephen didn't really mind. He preferred to be on his own most times, and it wasn't a particularly good day for him. His hands ached down to the bone, his body was wrung out and exhausted from the battle he fought only yesterday, and his brain had to remind him that it was the anniversary of Tony's passing. 

The beautiful scenery, to anyone else, might mean a vacation from their troubles. For Stephen, they simply allowed him to think. To swell on things passed. And it mocked him with the cheery sunshine and birds chirping.

As he wandered along the beach, nearly close enough for the breached waves to touch his toes, he found a man sitting on a stool and dabbing something on a large rectangle. Clearly a painter. Stephen wondered briefly why a man would subject himself to the elements to capture his art, but that only made him think of Tony, who would probably do the same thing if he were a painter. Suppressing a sigh, he went to walk around the elderly man -maybe sneak a peek at his work – but then he spoke to Stephen, voice rough with age and maybe disuse. 

“Hello, son. Would you like a painting?” Stephen nearly waved him off, the sun clearly making the guy loony, but he glanced over at the painting and pulled a double-take. It was astonishing, the painting; the waves nearly poured from the purple-blue colors smeared across the canvas, the setting sun bleeding into the water, and birds raced to escape the captured scene.

He was damn good, and Stephen knew talent like that was rare.

“What can you paint?” The man grunted as he removed the canvas and replaced it with a clean one.

“Anything, so long as I can see it. Man as handsome as yourself surely wants a portrait of God's handiwork?” Stephen felt himself blush at the compliment but only smiled with a shake of his head. No, he was no longer vain enough to have a painting of himself to hang on his wall; besides, he much preferred Morgan's childhood drawings of her favorite wizard.

“Actually, I have a particular image in mind. I'm- I'm not sure if you'll be able to do it, but if you would just take a look, maybe yo-” The man nodded and motioned impatiently for him to hand over whatever it was he was going to show him. Inhaling deeply, Stephen unlocked his Stark Tech phone and opened the photo album to the favorites. He scrolled to the picture he'd taken of the cabin by the lake when he first arrived, impressed not only with the scenery, but the care and effort Tony put into having it built- into turning it into a perfect marriage of domestic woodsman and tech genius. He turned the phone to the older gentleman, who grumbled and placed wiry glasses on his nose. 

“These one of those fancy Stark phones?” Stephen nodded. “Can you blow it up into a larger 3D image? I'm having trouble seeing it.” Luckily, being with Tony meant he found all the coolest and hidden features of these Stark phones, and he had the latest updates; even before anyone else.

After the image was carefully examined by the man, who revealed his name to be Barney, he set to work sketching it. Stephen knew it would take time to truly capture the gorgeous woods, the sparkling lake nearly out of shot, and the intricate cabin with a porch swing and wrap-around-deck. Who knew how long the comparatively simple ocean picture took?

While he sketched, Stephen summoned a chair and umbrella to rest in since the rest of his day would probably be spent in that spot, waiting for his vision to come to life. He only hoped the talented artist could do the real thing justice. 

“Did- Did you just poof some furniture out of thin air?” Stephen stiffened in his seat and kept his gaze on the ocean. He was so used to being in New York, around the Avengers and people who knew and understood magic – people who knew him – he often forgot it wasn't like that everywhere. That people had funny ideas about magic and people like Stephen.

“Um, would you believe me if I said it was here the whole time?” Surprisingly, the man only laughed as he continued to scribble on the page. 

“You magic folk are something of legend here. We see the stuff about New York on the television just like anyone else. Your people have saved our world countless times; and at least you don't blow up whole cities like those other superheroes.” Stephen chuckled and relaxed back into his seat, summoning his bottle of ice tea and a book he was determined to finish before Wong so it wouldn't be spoiled – again.

“Careful now, Barney. I'm friends with those superheroes.” The painter turned and met his gaze, suddenly serious. His smile was still warm, though, so Stephen stayed relaxed.

“I wondered why you seemed almost familiar. Old noggin' ain't what it use to be. Can't believe I forgot a face like that, though. You were with that Iron Man. What was his name again? It was all over the news for weeks.” He and Tony had argued for months about announcing their relationship and marriage, even more when Tony then proposed on their second anniversary, but in the end Tony won because as he so eloquently put it, _'You're telling me when they see me saving your magical ass, they won't know we're stupidly in love?'_

So, they announced it at a press conference. Well, Tony did. Stephen would have liked to, but mystical duties at Kamar-Taj pulled him away. Stephen did, however, watch the press conference back and had a few choice words for his newly betrothed. 

“Did you _really_ announce our relationship by waving your wedding ring around and singing _'too late bitches, the sexy sorcerer doctor is all mine'?_” Naturally, Tony was wrestling Peter and Harley when Stephen confronted him, Morgan clapping on the couch and Nebula throwing popcorn at them while trying to watch some karate movie. It was aggravating, being with a literal man-child, but Stephen honestly wouldn't trade it for anything. 

When the man untangled himself from the teen boys, he stood and brushed himself down, beaming at Stephen and melting some of his anger away. Stupidly charming man.

“Did you really expect anything else when you accepted my proposal? I mean, have I ever really been serious about anything exciting in my life? Even facing death I had a line or two.” And of course, Stephen, sap he was at heart, could do nothing but chuckle and kiss him on the cheek.

“Right. Yeah. But it could have been done with a touch of class, honey. At least for me.” The amusement dancing in Tony's eyes melted into a gooey warmth that reminded Stephen of hot chocolate. Like they enjoyed last Christmas with the children as they exchanged gifts and stories. 

“Now that's just unfair. You know I'd do anything for you, Stephie.” 

Stephen blinked away his tears and cleared his throat. Barney had gone back to work while Stephen was lost in his thoughts, so he picked up his book and distracted himself with the adventures of Doctor Kenneth Saunders, part-time pediatric surgeon and part-time crime-fighting badass with a dog called Dusty as his trusty sidekick. It was just getting interesting, a woman named Kendra Somers sitting in his office chair when he walked in from a long day inside a seven-year-old boy's chest cavity. Stephen appreciated the author's research into medical procedures and attention to fine details; perhaps the mysterious _Taylor Jackson_ was a doctor of some sort themselves. 

Kendra was nearly about to open the manila folder she produced from her leather shoulder bag when a throat clearing snapped his attention from the book.

“Strange is it?” Stephen cocked his head.

“Is what?” 

“No. I meant- pardon me. I meant, is your name 'Strange'? That infamous surgeon who dropped off the face of the planet, only to resurface years later as the mysterious _'Doctor Strange_? Boy, the news ate that up too.” He set his book aside and nodded. He didn't often have people still ask him, considering his face was kind of everywhere after Tony's horrendous announcement, and the one Stephen made – far more eloquently, he might add – a month later. 

“Well, it is actually Stark-Strange now, but yes I am he. Doctor Stephen Strange.” Stephen stood to check how the picture was coming and didn't even bother to cover his wonderment. The man was definitely getting a hefty tip once he was finished, even if he couldn't complete it to Stephen's desires. 

“This is- this is _incredible!_” Barney chuckled and set his pencil down, Stephen noticing right away he was massaging his hands from some sort of pain. Probably arthritic at his age. Stephen easily sympathized. 

“Well, it is quite an honor to be working on a piece for a Stark or a Strange. My boys love Iron Man, and my daughter never could stop gushing about those cheekbones of yours. I'd say you broke a couple hearts with that announcement.”

~

Stephen wrung his hands and fiddled with his bow tie. Any second, Pepper would pop backstage and lead him onto the stage for his half of the breaking news announcement Tony had delivered only a month before. Stephen found it all a little unnecessary, but Tony wanted him to have the chance to wow the world with his version of Tony's stunt. Besides, people never heard Stephen speak before, and Tony swore the second he did the world would fall in love with him just as Tony had.

Of course _that_ sentiment was accompanied with a fierce kiss and a look that said without words that they could love Stephen all they want because he was Tony's.

And, well, it was the same for Stephen. 

“Five seconds! You nervous?” Tony was bouncing on his toes, dressed up in an expensive midnight blue suit that suspiciously twinkled under the backstage lights and a burgundy tie, looking far more nervous than he apparently expected Stephen to feel. Back in his surgeon days, Stephen spoke at events all the time, so he wasn't nervous to address a room full of people.

It was the news he was sharing that had butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“You look like you're the one about to go out there and have to hold down your breakfast. Relax, Tony. I'm fine.” His new husband nodded vigorously, but his bouncing only seemed to increase. Stephen chuckled and cupped the man's jaw. “Promise me you'll be watching from the side of the stage?”

“Of course.” Pepper swooped in and gently moved Tony aside so she could lead Stephen out to the cameras ready to eat him alive. He quickly summoned a mirror and fixed his hair. He was about to tell the world he was Stephen Stark-Strange; he had to look good. Tony's face popped up in the reflection, eyes sparkling and smile nearly as wide as the day they married.

“You look fantastic. Better than me, even. I'm telling you; this conference is going to lead to me having to whisk you away to a private island because they will be storming the tower trying to take you away from me.” Stephen snorted and sent the mirror away, turning to kiss his cheek before Pepper was snipping at Tony to behave so they could actually get things done on-time. He stepped out onto the stage and channeled all the confidence and charm he could muster from his past life. Curious eyes stared up at him as he took in the room and nodded.

“Hello.” The room rumbled in greeting, cameras flashing a few hundred times, and Stephen rolled his shoulders and straightened his spine. This was nothing. He spoke to larger crowds about far more complex things. This was a cake walk.

“There have been many exciting announcements shared here today from Stark Industries and I just wanted to take a moment to thank all the speakers for coming. Now, most people have heard Tony Stark's announcement recently, and he did it in such Tony Stark style that I felt the need to come out here and give an announcement befitting men of our status. Not to mention my role as Sorcerer Supreme.” Camera clicks were the only sound for a few seconds as Stephen gathered himself. He could sense Tony's erratic nervous energy from the left, underneath that pride and love so strong it could bowl him over. He focused on that and smiled.

“I won't bore you with the specifics of how Tony Stark and myself met, or how I somehow charmed him enough – though not magically, of course – to date me. Mostly because Tony decided a full-blown magazine cover should be devoted to that story. I digress. Basically, I'm here to announce with pride and honor that I am Doctor Stephen Stark-Strange. Thank you.” He pulled the necklace that never left his neck until the ring on the end slid into his trembling hands and then tugged it over his head to show off for the cameras. It would be the only time in their brief but wonderful marriage he would remove it, and he never removed it even after Tony's shocking passing a few years later. 

~

“I'm sorry if my conversation is unpleasant, doctor. I usually chat with my clients, and you are an especially interesting one for me. I've seen you on my television after all. My children have your little hero group posters. Some of just you or that Stark.” Stephen only smiled and gestured to the painting.

“I did have something to add, before you get to coloring this in. You see, this was- this _is_ my home, and I just wanted to ask if you could add a detail for me.” Barney settled his glasses back on his face.

“I assume you want to be added to it?” Stephen nodded, flicking the 3D image off the phone and projecting one of him and Tony. 

“Could you maybe paint the both of us? Enjoying a warm spring afternoon on the porch swing. If you can't, I understand. What you've done already is extraordinary.” Something flashed in Barney's silvery eyes and he sniffed.

“Of course, son. I- I'm sure it hasn't been easy for you.”

~

It couldn't be true. It had to be one of his nightmares somehow. There was no way Christine, one of the most capable surgeons aside from Stephen himself back in the day, was telling him in that cold waiting room that Tony was not coming out alive. That despite everything they tried, all expenses thrown aside for Tony's survival, he had passed away during the complicated brain surgery. It just couldn't be. Tony Stark survived everything life threw at him; how could he not make it through surgery?

Stephen's bitter thoughts taunted him for months on end, reminding him that he could have saved Tony if he was still a surgeon. That it was so ironic how the one thing that could kill Tony Stark was Stephen's old vocation that he lost due to selfishness and pride. It was pointless to even entertain such thoughts, but it wouldn't leave him alone, slowly cracking away at him until he broke down and cried for hours, maybe even days; until life came calling and he had to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart and save a world far less bright. 

He threw blame on everyone he could during his grief. He pushed people away, save for Tony's children. No, they could not become targets, or worse, victims of his solitary confinement. They needed someone to be strong for them, especially poor Morgan. The rest, however, suffered the wrath of a shattered heart.

Stephen treated Christine as if she were an idiotic intern who mixed up blood samples for the tenth time, snarled and swore at Steve Rogers until his voice was breaking and refused to work, rejected Wong's teas and sleeping spells, and snapped at any and every Avenger who dared visit them at the cabin. He broke things in the 'Rage Room' Tony installed in the basement for anyone to blow off steam and shot the immovable walls with everything inside him until he collapsed on the ground and Peter had to help him to bed.

He was a mess after Tony died. After everything the man lived through, when he finally got the life he deserved, the universe snatched it away. And so was the family. Peter would come in from his 'patrols' at three in the morning, eyes red and swollen. Harley refused to speak to anyone, focusing his time in the lab for days on end. Morgan cried and asked about Tony as an angel. Nebula was the strongest of them all, only bowing her head at the funeral and spending every other moment entertaining guests so Stephen wouldn't bite their heads off. At least Stephen had them.

The crazy thing was that the cause of Tony's death seemed like the normal minor head trauma he often suffered in the Iron Man suit. With the updates and runes Stephen enchanted newer versions with, the armor should have been able to protect him even better than previous incarnations. Christine reported light bleeding on the brain, nothing they hadn't dealt with before. After sixteen hours on the table, however, Stephen knew something was wrong.

He demanded Christine give him every last detail one night when she came to visit him, bringing a casserole and a single flower. Stephen was pacing around the kitchen, ranting and shouting at her, and as she slowly explained what happened – what complications popped up due to previous injuries Tony suffered – he grew only more furious. More agitated. He stormed out into the yard and screamed at the stars sparkling above, shooting bolts of purple and blue into the night until he dropped to his knees and just cried.

It was rather unfair. To all of them. 

~

Many years passed since that night, since Tony's passing, and Stephen was beginning to warm up again. Peter was nearly finished with college, Harley already working wonders at Stark Industries, and Morgan was about to go into high school. Nebula often journeyed with the guardians to keep busy, sending brief messages to him about her travels and what shenanigans Peter Quill and Thor got up to while her sister, Gamora, tried to referee. Stephen enjoyed her video messages because she seemed happy, more in her element than on Earth with Tony and Stephen. 

He pulled the rings up from where they lay against his chest to examine them. He loved how much effort Tony put into their designs, how they were unique to the person who wore them yet complemented each other perfectly. Each was made from the same material his Iron suits were composed of because Tony was a ridiculous sap deep down. Tony's was a brilliant gold with intertwining red and blue lines circling the simple band. 

Surprisingly plain for the extravagant man that was Tony Stark. 

Stephen's ring was silver and set with alternating red, blue, and white gem chips around the band. It was heavy in his hand, especially compared to the one Tony often wore, which was scuffed and faded from Tony wearing it on those workman's hands of his. When Tony had given him the ring over dinner, he told him softly, almost shyly, that it was designed with more weight on purpose because he knew it would settle around Stephen's neck and hang down by his heart. He wanted it to not bounce around too much, and for Stephen to always feel its presence. 

Sappy couple they made.

Stephen then proceeded to enchant them with a connection spell that, when rubbed by the wearer, would vibrate the connected piece and the partner would know the other was thinking of them. Stephen's vibrated quite often, though he figured at the time it was because Tony often fidgeted with his ring and hands absently when he was thinking. Tony corrected him one night when he made a joke at dinner, confessing he did it on purpose because he wanted Stephen to know that even in his element, he was thinking of Stephen always. He did it on the battlefield too, when Stephen wasn't there with him, for the same reason. 

They no longer vibrated, but they did emit a glow of energy that Stephen studied at night when he couldn't sleep. 

Hours seemed to pass as he studied their rings, threading trembling fingers through them and feeling tears gather in his eyes when his ring finger could easily slide through Tony's band. It was warm from being pressed against Stephen's skin, but he pretended it was from Tony and traced the edges with the tip of his finger. How he missed the man who wore the gold ring; who gifted Stephen the silver band he couldn't even wear properly because his hands would hurt too much.

His hands were always a complication for him, a burden, but Tony only ever saw them as powerful sorcerer's hands. Hands that could turn the billionaire into jelly and helped him fall asleep at night. Tony commented often on how beautiful his hands were, even before they were dating, and it only continued strong as they made their way through married life. It was Tony who made Stephen comfortable with the way his hands looked, the way they shook and trembled; how they couldn't hold a fork or pen properly even with therapy. 

Tony always took his limitations into consideration without ever making Stephen feel less for how his hands were. 

“Alright, son. I think I've finally finished the outlining. Do you mind if I take this home to finish?” Stephen blinked out of his memories and stood from the chair, sending it away with a wave of his hand as he examined the kind man's work. If there were tears in Stephen's eyes as he looked at the picture, at the little sketch of him and Tony enjoying the day together, the man didn't comment. 

“It's perfect. Thank you. And I don't mind at all. Take all the time you need. When should I come get it?” Barney shook his head and carefully put away his supplies.

“I'll have it sent to you no problem. You take care, son.”

A week later, Stephen stepped through the portal into the living room. As he brushed off the dust from his robes and went about preparing to make dinner, he noticed something leaning against the front door. Curiosity and excitement swirled and mingled in his blood as he levitated it to the couch, sitting down and carefully pulling off the cloth covering. Tears once again pricked in his eyes.

“Oh, Tony. If only you could be here to see this.” The picture was... it was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. Barney's painstaking attention to detail brought Stephen's image to life in the fantastic oil painting. The lush greens of the trees, the sunlight sparkling on the lake, and there was Tony leaning into Stephen on the porch swing, butterflies all around them and flowers blooming along the vines added to the beams on the porch. They were small in the image, hardly the focus of the masterpiece, but Stephen couldn't stop staring at the two of them. His heart both swelled and ached as he thought back to the dozens of spring mornings they sat there drinking tea and coffee, or afternoons where they watched the children run around the yard and Stephen read one of his favorite adventure books out-loud as Tony snoozed in his lap. 

The painting was everything he wanted – maybe even needed.

When Peter Parker and Harley Keener dropped in to say hello and join Stephen in a lively dinner discussion, Morgan bickering with her brothers just as they used to when they were ages younger, they both paused in the living room to study the painting Stephen displayed on an easel he bought in anticipation. Neither boy commented, but the tight embraces Stephen received before the boys set the table for dinner was all he needed to know how they felt about it.

Morgan, however, was always one to speak when others couldn't or wouldn't (so much like Tony it was kind of frightening). So when she found it, Stephen waited for what she would say.

“Do you think the person who made this painting would make one for me too? I have this picture of me and dad I've always wanted to blow up and hang on my wall when I go to college, but this...this might be better than that.” Stephen pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head.

“We'll pay him a visit and see what he thinks. Come on, let's go help the boys.” Morgan stopped him from turning away and blinked up at him with too familiar brown eyes.

“Babbo, do you- Could we maybe go visit that ice cream place daddy loved? On Saturday, so there's no school to worry about and my brothers can come too? I think...I think we're all missing him a lot right now.” Stephen nodded and led them into the kitchen, already mentally clearing his schedule for time with his kids. Maybe he could persuade Nebula into paying a visit in a few days so they could all be together again. 

He turned back to the picture and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, Kudos, and Suggestions are always appreciated. I may not always respond, but I promise I see everything and it makes me smile knowing people are touched by what I have written. Thank you for all the love and support. :) xx
> 
> (Also, one of my headcannons is that the kids call Tony 'dad' or 'daddy' and Stephen the Italian word for 'dad, which is 'babbo'. Harley, however, calls still calls Stephen and Tony by their first names, though he may call Tony 'dad' on occasion.)


End file.
